A gout of hot gas and powdery detritus blasted back from the head of the bolt and receiver and slapped him across the forehead. Some of it flew into his eye and he winced back, rubbing his eye furiously as tears welled up. He blinked hard and fast, eventually regaining vision in that eye. I should have grabbed a better weapon earlier, why didn’t I? Fuck me I hate this bullshit. He was angry now, angry and starting to get scared as raging gun battles broke out all around him. Explosions rang out at random, with great fires lighting up parts of the city with an eerie glow as the smoke of battle and burning began settling in all around the bay. He sat back up and peeped over the edge of the belfry. Just then, he heard a snarling rasp fill the air from below. That sound could only mean one thing: the mitrailleuse opened up with a furious barrage of hot lead, smoke pouring out from the window of the church as the invaders cowered and scattered. Sparks and bits of metal flew about as the hot loaded slugs tore into them far more viciously than any rifle could. This gave him some hope yet, but about a furlong behind the now shattered group were scores more invaders coming up the street, and fast. Naurus debated what he should do now that he was stuck with a useless weapon, so he figured it would be best to run downstairs and see what he could find.
As soon as he walked into the nave, he was greeted with acrid smoke stinging his nostrils and watering up his eyes. Fatty and skinny were busy loading another cartridge plate into the mitrailleuse while everyone else was busy laying down covering fire from behind sandbags piled in front of the other windows. Morra was among them, and she didn’t even bother turning around as she furiously worked the bolt on her rifle.
“I don’t remember saying you could come down here!” She snarled.
“My rifle is jamming up and spraying me in the damn face with gas! Something is wrong with it!”
“Well quit your goddamn whining and grab another one. I’m not gonna wipe your ass for you now!” She yelled back, never breaking stride while shooting at any target of opportunity that came up.
Naurus started rifling through the barrel of weapons, which was mostly picked clean at this point but he found another carbine that was at least serviceable. He grabbed another bandolier of ammunition and was about to make his way back up to the belfry when he heard a terrible banging on the double doors into the nave. He looked back just in time to see a mattock break though the wooden doors, followed by another and another. By this point everyone else in the nave was rushing towards the door, trying to shore up the barricade of pews, braziers, rolled up rugs and any other half substantial piece of junk. The holes in the door were soon large enough to see the mass of armored men standing outside, swinging their mattocks furiously at the door which at this rate seemed it wouldn’t hold much longer. On Morra’s lead, everyone began sticking their barrels near the holes that were made in the door and firing blindly into the crowd outside. As they were doing that, Morra grabbed a pair of hand grenades and made her way back to the crumbling doors. The attackers had now stacked up outside the kill zone in front of the door and were swinging from behind the cover of the exterior wall. She didn’t seem fazed at all, in fact she smiled while pulling the friction fuses off both cast iron grenades with her teeth at the same time. The fuses lit up in a shower of sparks and smoke, and she gingerly rolled them out of two holes in the door nearest to either wall. A simultaneous pair of explosions soon rocked the walls and blew splinters and shrapnel through the doors, but there was a moment of respite after this. Just a moment.
“Oh no you don’t!” The commodore cried out from behind him.
He turned around and saw Morra crack her rifle butt against the helmeted skull of an attacker who was trying to clamber over some sandbags in front of a broken-out window. The blow sounded out with terrible crunching clang and a deep dent could be seen before he limply slid back out the window.
“You better get back up there and start working before we get overrun!” She commanded him.
Although he was hesitant as the situation seemed to be quite hairy down in the nave, he obeyed as she had never really wronged him before. Back up in the belfry, he loaded up and took pot shots at any target that presented itself. The streets were absolute chaos, and he was having difficulty differentiating friend from foe in the darkness and fog of war. Pow! Down went one. Bang! He had no idea if it hit or not. He could barely take his mind off the fate of his commodore and those with her downstairs. He heard the familiar snarling rasp open up from below him once again, with smoke and fire belching into the street like a raging geyser of lead from the window below. That was an effective means of crowd control, but with the geyser now quiet he noticed a group of conscripts retreating into a nearby building, appearing to be outnumbered and outgunned in a skirmish down the road to his north. He took aim at the invaders, but they all suddenly ducked into alleys and behind cover for seemingly no reason. There was a reason though.
Out of a shadowy nowhere appeared a large, shirtless man. He seemed rather heavy but moved with surprising speed. Strapped all around his waist was a string of dynamite sticks which looked like an oversized ammunition belt. On either side of his head were sticks of the same explosive strapped up by his ears by a tied cloth. In his hands were two furiously burning torches but most curious of all was that which was strapped to his forearms. As this sapper laden with explosives charged at the building, he took fire from the windows there but was blocking the shots with a pair of iron plates that were strapped to his forearms. Connecting these in front of him formed a crude shield of sorts, which worked well enough. Naurus took aim, but missed the target and his shot skipped off the ground in front of the charging man. The sapper stumbled on his charge as someone tried shooting out his legs, but it was too late. In one deft movement, the fuses leading to the dynamite on his head and waist were lit simultaneously and he barreled through the doorway and straight into the building full of those who thought they were safer in there. The massive explosion blew out all the windows and smoke billowed out from what was left of the refuge. Naurus winced and suddenly felt a pang of guilt for those inside, wondering what would have happened had he not missed his shot. His sigil started aching and throbbing. The stinging guilt was suddenly replaced with anger and hatred. His sigil settled down. He immediately knew in that moment what his father meant when he said he hated with perfect hatred.
It was personal now, but one man could only do so much to save a city drowning in chaos. A bullet came whistling past the belfry but Naurus had no idea where it came from. He ducked down and decided since he couldn’t see much, he would simply start firing at muzzle flashes that were aimed at him. That is exactly what he did, although it was nearly impossible to tell if he had hit his targets or they simply ducked back or moved elsewhere under cover of the smoky night. He was starting to draw more fire to himself, as he realized his own muzzle flashes were painfully obvious high up in a dark belfry. He could hear bullets whizzing past and some others slamming into the belfry, tearing ragged holes through the wooden walls and supports. He desperately waiting for a pause in the return fire, becoming increasingly unsure of if he should even stay up there seeing that he couldn’t do much to avoid the return fire besides laying prone and hoping for the best. He started feeling something peculiar, a very low rumble which he could just barely hear as well. This deep, bass register soon became something he was definitely hearing as well as feeling. It was coming from the north and seemingly straight at him too. He peeked his head back up over the ledge, and could still hear the noise approaching but couldn’t see much at all. Something that looked like a silvery stream running down the street, undulating and pulsating in harmonious rhythm. Soon he realized he was seeing the moonlight reflect off the tips of spears. The mass came closer yet and soon passed a building that was on fire. The orange glow reflecting brightly off the helmets of these men, the steel wings catching the light in an ominous portention of fury like that of a hawk on its prey.
Naurus could finally start to make out the mounted men more clearly as th
ey passed a cloud of smoke. Just then, they lowered their spears and charged in perfect unison at the invaders that were desperately trying to square up in the streets. It was far too late though. The terrible, rumbling wave of steel-clad horses and the Imperial Lancers that rode them tore through the street in their characteristic five by five formations. The smarter invaders scattered down side alleys and streets. The dumber ones weren’t long for his world, crushed mercilessly under horse and hoof if they weren’t shot down or ran through with steel and hickory. The sound of armored men being flattened into the cobble and brick streets like tin cans was oddly comforting in this moment. At an intersection blocked off by a now flaming barricade, the riders turned in highly disciplined harmony and without breaking stride set off on a charge down the hill towards the bay sending invaders scattering and yelling in desperation. Behind them, a procession of light cavalry conscripts stayed back to clean up any remaining foes who were still standing, taking most of them prisoner. The prisoners were rounded up into the middle of streets, and the tide of battle had finally seemed to turn for the better. He looked out across the bay and from within in the smoke could see the flash of cannon blasts aimed towards him and the rest of the city. A parting salvo that had little effect on the already well entrenched defenders.
Another screaming reply could be heard from high up on Dragon’s Peak, and a direct hit was made all the more obvious by a boiler explosion that tore one of the retreating ships in half. He looked down below and there seemed to be something of an uneasy peace creeping in over the city. Gunshots were few and far between and no more shelling could be heard. He also heard slow, heavy footsteps coming up the stairway into the belfry. He breathed a sigh of relief, not turning around either.
“Commodore, I think we’ve finally won!”
There was no reply. Maybe she didn’t hear me? Before he thought to turn around, he smelled it. A sharp, sulfuric smell wafted over him. The hair on the back of his neck prickled and he spun around. It was most definitely not Morra standing there. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of a broad shouldered and barrel-chested man wearing an articulated steel half-plate. He was noticeably shorter but also broader than Naurus, with a double plaited beard running down to his chest. A sallet capped his head, and he bore his dark beady eyes into Naurus with a blood lusting smile to go with it. He certainly looked like a dwarf, but there was little impetus for conversation as actions spoke louder than words now. The dwarf pulled a pair of nunchaku out of his belt and started snaking it around. What the hell is that? I don’t even have my bayonet, dammit to hell! Naurus cursed to himself as the nunchaku whistled through the air at his head. He barely managed to block it with his rifle but was too slow to do anything about the follow up shot that cracked against his left shoulder. It hurt deeply and the gnarled steel nunchaku were unforgiving.
The next blow wrapped around the rifle and cracked him across the forearm. He couldn’t take much more of this, he had to do something and quick. Before another blow could land, Naurus tossed his rifle at the dwarf which bought him a moment to charge the invader and they locked horns. Now the nunchaku was out of play for the time being, but the smell coming from this dwarf was practically unbearable. His nostrils stung as they shoved around, but the dwarf was noticeably stronger, and he knew he had to do something else before he lost the wrestling match.
“Why the fuck do you smell so bad?!” He leaned in and groaned with frustration.
“Ach kaine du nichtale!” Came the dwarfs grunted reply.
Naurus had no idea what that meant, but the distraction was just enough for him to hook his hands into the side and collar of the dwarf’s cuirass and push off the wall with his leg to gain leverage and shove the smelly invader to the other side of the belfry. He didn’t have much time to act as the dwarf charged directly at him again. He planted his boot as hard as he could into the dwarfs armored abdomen which pushed him back again. The dwarf tripped over the rifle that was thrown earlier, and he picked it up and wound up for a huge swing. Naurus had no other choice but to charge in and stop the swing before it could reach its full arc, and he succeeded at this. In doing so, he lost his balance and the dwarf capitalized on this opportunity. He grabbed Naurus by the collar and threw a hay maker which was just barely blocked, but the gauntlets dug in to his shoulder hard and true. Seeing his only opening, Naurus threw a left hook over the extended arm of the dwarf. The punch connected right on the side of the sallet with a sickening pop-crack¸ but it soon became painfully obvious to whom that noise belonged. A searing pain shot through Naurus’s shoulder all the way down his arm, and suddenly he couldn’t articulate much of anything through his left shoulder. The dwarf must have sensed this and smiled a nasty smile as he threw a flurry of punches that brought Naurus down against the wall. He tried to cover his head with his right arm while trying to back away all at the same time. There wasn’t much room up in the belfry, and he began to hyperventilate with the alternating waves of fear and panic coursing through him.
He looked up one last time and noticed for just a split second a tall and dark figure looming behind the dwarf. WHACK! Cling-clang! A brass rifle butt flashed in the moonlight and slammed into the sallet of the dwarf, knocking him off balance and sending the sallet flying into a wall. The dwarf quickly recovered though and spun around to face the new threat. Morra’s eyes glowed like a cat stalking its prey in the pale of a full moon, and she levelled her shotgun at her hip. The dwarf charged, but hardly made it a step. BANG! Smoke and fire erupted with a terrible barking report from the shotgun, which rang Naurus’s ears like the bells up here did long ago. She cycled the shell out, and the next shot was more felt than heard by the increasingly deaf cripple laying against the wall. Another shell hit the ground, and another concussive blast sent spalling and shrapnel all about as the dwarf stumbled back under the hail of steel shot. His armor plating was caving in and blowing apart, and a rapid succession of two more shots ripped him open like a tin can and sent him tumbling over the low wall and crashing through the roof the church below.
Naurus was stunned by this turn of events but could hardly celebrate as he attempted to set his left arm down and was met with paralyzing pain that racked across his whole body. He just then realized his left arm was stuck in a strange position, curled upwards as if he was trying to flex his bicep but involuntarily. Any attempt to move his arm out of his position was met with fierce spasming and even worse pain. Morra walked over and crouched down in front of him. She set the shotgun down against the wall. Acrid, silvery smoke was curling out of the ejection port and barrel. He could feel the heat radiating off the barrel.
“What’s wrong with your arm?” She asked gently, scanning him vigilantly.
“I don’t know…I hurt it throwing a punch. When it connected, my shoulder just popped and now I can barely move it. Shit! That hurts!” He cried out as she tried to move his arm down from its curled-up position, triggering more spasms.
“Hmm…we will have to get you to a hospital. But let’s try this for now.”
She grabbed hold of his shoulder and looked down as if intensely concentrating. She started breathing heavily and rhythmically. He wanted to ask what was going on but even talking bore more pain, so he just waited to see what was going to happen. An effusive warmth radiated out from her hand and spread across his left shoulder and through his arm. His muscles seemed to relax as if on command and the painful spasms were no longer to be had. He was finally able to think at least a little straight now. She looked up and met his eyes, her predatorial glower was now a soft and caring gaze. She sat down next to him and wrapped him up in a hug. He never realized how long her arms were until that moment.
“Did we win?” Was all he could think of to say.
“Yes…yes we did. Feeling a bit better?” She replied softly.
“I am, thanks.”
She tightened her squeeze ever so slightly but perceptibly. He didn’t know what to say or do, but he enjoyed the feeling. He enjoyed such a feeling tha
t he had not felt in years. He felt safe and protected. He felt as if she was a guardian angel in the flesh and blood. One he needed but did not deserve.
“Commodore?”
“I’m here.”
“Does this mean we’re at war?”
She contemplated for a moment, then sighed. “I think so. But now, we have to take the fight to them.”
“What do you mean?”
She chuckled and looked at him, especially scanning around his head. “Did you get punched a few too many times? Don’t remember what we talked about with the King himself?”
“Yes, I remember. I did get punched but never mind, I’m fine. I still don’t understand how just the two of us are going to accomplish anything in such a war.” He said dejectedly.
“That’s not for you to fully understand right now. And it’s not literally just the two of us. You need to heal up before anything else can happen. The rest will come soon enough.” She tenderly massaged his shoulder, paying particular attention to a hollow where the head of his humerus should have been.
The warmth penetrated his shoulder once again, prickling pleasantly.
“So…what are we doing now?” He asked, unsure of what she had in mind.
“And so our story begins.”
Shadow Kingdom Page 22
